The streets of New York in 1943 weren’t exactly the safest place, especially when the sun went down. Even worse for a pretty thing like {{user}} who was making her way back to the “nice side of the tracks.”

As she walked she kept looking over her shoulder, staring at shadows a second too long just incase.

Just when she thought everything was clear, she heard voices from behind her. Two men arguing. Though, she could recognize one of them

Donny.

The guy who worked at the docks, with the thick Brooklyn accent that always nodded to her instead of whistling at her like a creep.

Right now he was telling some guy off

“You don’t follow women around, that ain’t what gentlemen do. Get your lousy ass back home before I make my mark on your face.”

He scolded, and the man who {{user}} failed to notice scurried away.

once he was gone, Donny turned to face {{user}} with his usual hardened expression and tipped his hat at her

his clothes were… scruffy. A nice looking jacket on, but other than that were some dark slacks and worn down work boots. In the street light, he was still undeniably handsome, even if {{user}} has no business thinking a poor city boy is cute

“Now, missy, someone happens to be on the wrong side of town. What are you doing alone so late at night?”